


The Little Lion Cub Who Could

by SlytherinPsychopath



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alive James and Lily, F/M, Gen, Growing Up, Master of Death Harry Potter, Not Beta Read, Not Dark!Harry, Obsessive Tom Riddle, Parselmouth Harry Potter, Time Travel, Work In Progress, Young Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2018-10-25 02:03:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10754460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinPsychopath/pseuds/SlytherinPsychopath
Summary: Time is an endless circle of despair. For Death, this means watching his one and only Master suffer time and time again. Having enough, he takes the choice out of Harry's hands and gives him the childhood he always deserved... while also giving him a chance to fix the broken boy who caused all the despair in his life.





	1. The Beginning

 October 31, 1980

                One would think that after an eternity of his job, Death would be used to the horrors he witnesses. His gaze locked on the keeper of his cloak as he laid, staring lifelessly from where he had fallen attempting to save his wife and child. A chill blew through the house as a woman’s scream echoed against the walls. He reached down with a long, incorporeal finger and with a simple come hither of his finger, James Potter’s soul rose from his body. Gasping and looking around like an animal caught in a hunter’s gaze.

                “Rest easy, child. Come along. We must collect your family,” Death told him. His voice wasn’t real, but rather a deep resonating sound in James’s head. Which made sense, seeing as the cloaked figure didn’t have a face or mouth or really a corporeal form. But James knew he was there as they both climbed the stairs to where Lily’s form was crumbled in front of Harry’s crib where the baby sat staring right at the Collector, teary-eyed but otherwise calm.

                Death leaned down and brought Lily Potter’s soul from its fleshy confines. Unlike James, she was calm. She met Death’s nonexistent eyes with sadness and a look so close to betrayal he could taste it. It wasn’t his fault she died. Still, he turned to look at her son.

                “Awe, Master, of all the times we’ve met, this must be your most vulnerable form,” Death sighed, reaching for the child who reached out for him. Of course, there was nothing to touch, but he could conform his master in one of his lifetimes. He was a kind master afterall. Never searching for power or immortality, but receiving both by nature. Death held the deepest of respects for him, it only seemed right that he not doom his master to another lifetime so very much like the rest. His master was always so sad.

                “James Potter. Lily Potter. Are you willing to sacrifice your rest for your son?” Death asked, turned to them to watch the united lovers who stared with so much heartache at their son.

                “We’d sacrifice anything for Harry. Please, don’t take him! Please!” Lily begged. “Sirius will-“

                “Mrs. Potter, please. I’m so very old and we’ve had this conversation so many times,” Death silenced her. “My Master, your son, he’s lived so many lifetimes. Each one sadder than the last. If you both are willing to sacrifice so much, I can change things. I can give him at least one happy lifetime.”

                “Anything,” James reiterated his wife’s sentiment, holding her close to him to keep himself together. She was always so much stronger than him. Even now, she seemed willing to fight, to plea, to do anything despite staring in the face of Death.

                “As you wish. My only request: give my Master, one good life. He deserves it,” Death explained and in an instant, everything disappeared.

                Death had kept his hands to himself for so long at his master’s request. The first Harry had been against using his rule of Death and Death had been young and reckless enough to take that as a chance to abandon his duties. Each time Harry lived, he grew sadder and sadder. He lost more and more people. And every Harry refused to use his power despite his own eternal enemy seeking to abuse Death.

                Time flew in reverse until he found the most compatible family he could for the Potters. Another Potter. Charlus Potter and his wife Dorea Black, James’s own great uncle. They had perished at the hands of Grindlewald’s armies while fighting in the war along with their only son Henry, named for the boy’s grandfather, who died of disease soon after his parents’ deaths. It didn’t take too much entropy to throw the Potters of the future into their lives, leaving them with only the most basic of memories so they could adapt and not give away their true identities.

                “Good luck, Potters. You may very well need it.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

November 1, 1928

                James was shocked awake early the next morning when the sun was still low in the sky. His bedroom looked so different – everything much more earth toned than they’d ever kept it. But it was unmistakably the master suite in Godric’s Hallow. The previous night’s events flooded his senses as well as memories that didn’t belong to him.

                He jumped out of bed and was in the nursery before he could so much as blink. This room, of course, was also different. Smaller, but it also seemed much newer. In a round, dark wood crib, adorned with golden curtains and little plush snitches flying just above it. There was Harry sitting there, reaching up to try to catch the toys. James scooped him up and nearly sobbed. His son. His son was okay.

                It took him awhile before he realized Harry too looked different. His once beautiful green eyes were a warm brown, much like his own eyes. But there was a scar on his forehead that traveled down one eye and over his cheek. A mark of a curse. A patch of his black hair was white. But he still cooed and smiled and cuddled into James. Despite the differences, James knew innately that this was his Harry.

                He was startled when he saw a figure at the door out of the corner of his eyes. He held Harry close, until he realized the woman with smooth dark hair and piercing blue eyes was his wife.

                “L-Lily?” He asked softly, although some faint memory told him her name was Dorea.

                “Oh thank god. James,” Lily sighed in relief, coming into the room and looking down at little Harry with a faint smile. “He’s okay. We did it. We saved him.” She had tears in her eyes, but she was smiling from ear to ear.

                They did it. Maybe it wasn’t the life they knew or wanted, but they had saved their son. And now they just had to work with what they were given. What could possibly go wrong?


	2. Diagon Alley Part 1

                There was a solid week of adjustment before it finally hit Lily and James that they effectively had to live Charlus and Dorea’s lives. That realization came in the form of Dorea’s brother Pollux coming for a visit. Which had been awkward to say the least. But they managed.

                Apparently Dorea was a potioneer and Charlus was a healer by profession and both were in starch opposition to Grindlewald. In their past life, they were due to die on the battlefield in a hand full of weeks. But Lily and James would not let that happen. They had fought in enough wars for both lifetimes.

                As okay with being a healer as James was, he ended up resigning for Charlus from St. Mungos so he could stay home with Harry. Luckily for Lily, she was getting to skip the hard parts of becoming known as a potioneer and was just able to help people. And boy did she have a back log of orders to fill. It also put her in a position to publish a Wolfsbane potion decades in advance. But that would have to wait. It was on her to-do list, but she had to make sure she remembered the potion correctly. She wrote it down one of their first days in their new lives just in case.

                It had only taken a hand full of days for letters from family and friends to start coming in after Pollux had mentioned the strange scar on Harry’s face to his wife, the chatterbox. And they shared the duty of explaining they had had an intruder in their home who hit little Henry, or Harry as they’ve taken to calling him, with a nasty curse. Charlus had taken care of their son while Dorea had gotten rid of the intruder, of course. That seemed to quiet the nastier of the rumors. Everyone knew not to get on the wrong side of a Black’s wand. Even if it was Lily Potter behind that wand, the sentiment remained the same.

                Then almost a week after Pollux’s visit, they had the unannounced arrival of one Albus Dumbledore.  He stood at the door with a dreadfully serious look, gaunt face, and tired eyes. Still, his stature was large, but not quite the larger than life feeling he often gave off back in their old timeline. How could a much younger man look so much older?

                “Oh. Hello, Albus. Might I offer you a spot of tea,” Lily asked as she let him in and handed Harry off to James.  James stood to the side, holding Harry close now and watching Dumbledore with careful eyes. Someone had told Voldemort where to find them. The only two people? The secret keeper and the caster. James wasn’t willing to rule out Dumbledore yet.

                “No thank you, Dorea. I’m afraid I’m here on business. As you two might have gathered, Grindlewald is moving closer to Britain as we speak. His forces have gained power, and I don’t know who else to turn to. You’ve both talked about your opposition to him, how far are you willing to go to see his demise?” Dumbledore asked as he took a seat on the couch.

                Lily sat down as well on the love seat but James stayed standing and focusing on his wand in case he had to make a quick grab for it. He wouldn’t be taken by surprise again.

                “Albus, you know we oppose him. We’d given almost anything to see his downfall, but we have Harry. It’s more important that we’re here for him than to fight a war,” Lily explained, reaching out and putting a hand on top of Albus’s. “Certainly you understand.”

                Dumbledore’s face grew even more pale and let out a deep breath. “Of course. One’s family is always most important. But I beg you both, please do consider the greater good,” he said softly, looking between two of his oldest friends.

                James shook his head immediately. “The greatest _good_ in this world is my son being raised by his parents who love him very much and would give every single _good_ in this world for him.” Perhaps he was a bit harsh, particularly since this Dumbledore hadn’t done anything wrong if ever. But James would sooner lose an ally in Dumbledore than he would ever have to worry about his son becoming an orphan again.

                Dumbledore stood stiffly and looked James in Charlus’s eyes with a glint of betrayal. “I see. Charlus, have I wronged you in some way? If I have, I certainly did not intend to.”

                James shook his head. “Not at all. But I won’t let a war make an orphan of my son.” Not again. Never again. Lily stood and walked over to James, putting a hand on his arm in hopes of calming him down. That wasn’t going to happen. They both knew where their priorities had to lie.

                “I’m sorry, Albus. J-Charlus is right. Harry is our priority now. And he always will be. I can provide potions and you can send your wounded here for us to heal, but our place isn’t on a battlefield,” Lily explained, smile soft and apologetic, meeting his eyes empathically. That was all she was willing to offer at this point.

                “Of course. I may take you up on that offer. I should leave then. There are many others I need to talk to,” Dumbledore said, blowing by them both on his way to the door. “Good day, James…. Lily.”

                The door closed behind then and a silence flooded the house besides the gentle coos of Harry who tried to get his parent’s attention. James and Lily. How did he know? The couple met eyes as their stomach fell to the floor. Well, this just got a lot more complicated.

 

* * *

 

                Or so they thought. But if anyone was the wiser to their identities, they didn’t say a thing.  They began to venture out more and more, actually being able to take Harry to the park and learn enough about the world they were currently in that they pulled their investments before the Great Depression could hit (thanks to Lily for knowing muggle history). And boy did Charlus and Dorea have a lot invested.

                When it did hit in the 1930s, they were resting comfortably. The war against Grindlewald continued and Lily held up her end of the bargain to supply potions and heal those fighting. Their home which had once just been the three of them, soon looked much more like a military hospital. And when muggles wandered in off the streets, well, Lily was not going to turn them down.

                As for Harry, he grew up at his mother and father’s side, helping people in his own way. He brought them water and food and blankets once he was old enough to understand they were hurt. And once he learned how to read (brilliantly, at the sprite age of 5 years old), he started reading them stories and let them talk to him about their own kids they had at home.

                Most importantly, Harry grew up with the first knowledge that it didn’t matter if someone was a muggle or a wizard, what mattered was they were human. And every single human had a story if he sat through the grumpiness long enough to hear it.

                It seemed like no time at all before Harry received his letter from Hogwarts. Oh, he yelled and hollered happily after he read it and went running to his mom and dad, telling them oh so excitedly. James had cheered and spun him in a circle and Lily had congratulated him, although neither of them had had any doubts that he would be going to Hogwarts. 

                He wrote to Dumbledore the very same day to say he would be attending.

* * *

 

                “Come on! Hurry!” Harry complained as James and Lily lagged behind, just walking at a reasonable pace through the Leaky Cauldron. Lily laughed at him and rolled her eyes, but she was so glad to be able to share this with her son.

                James smiled and kiss Lily’s cheek. Man, did he love her laugh and their life. He couldn’t imagine that there were lifetimes where they didn’t have this. Love. Family. A life together.  It was all so natural at this point, even if they were living someone else’s life.

                They came upon the brick wall and James tapped on it with his wand to make it open. Harry sucked in a breath and stared with wide eyes as people bustled through the shops and owls flew overhead. He didn’t know what to look at first. The brooms. The books. The cauldrons.  The pets. The apothecary. The clothes. It was spectacular! The wizard world wasn’t as hard hit as the muggle by the Depression, but there were still a couple empty shops that made all the adults in the area grieve.

                “Wait up, Harry! We still need to go to Gringotts,” Lily reminded him with a laugh as Harry pressed his nose up against the glass of the broom store.

                Harry groaned and turned to walk with them to the bank. James ruffled his hair as they walked back that way. Once they got to the bank, well, Harry wasn’t complaining much longer. The goblins were SO COOL and getting to ride the cart down, down, down all the way to Potter vault had him wide eyed and excited, but James was the only one who got out of the cart and went into the vault. Still, Harry could see the mountains of gold and the old books and family heirlooms laying about and he wanted to know about every single one of them.

                “Why doesn’t dad let me see?” Harry complained to his mom, leaning against her.

                Lily ran her hands through his hair and kissed his head. “He will, when you’re older. Some of those heirlooms come from my side of the family afterall. They’re not really safe for children. There’s a book in there that’ll eat you if you’re not careful,” she warned him, tickling his sides to show him she was joking. He laughed and squirmed until James returned to the cart.

                “Business is handle, Griphook. Thank you,” James told him before the cart began to ascend. “What do you want to get first, Harry?”

                “A broom!”

                “First years aren’t allowed brooms, Harry,” Lily reminded him and gave James a look because he looked ready to agree.

                James pouted and nodded in agreement. “Next year, Harry. Your broom is fine for now. How about we go get you a pet while your mum gets your books?” He suggested to pull that frown off of Harry’s face.

                Harry beamed at that. “A pet! For me? Really? That I can take to Hogwarts?” He asked, bouncing in his seat and all the way out of the cart and through the bank. “I don’t know what I should get! Owls to write home with? A cat like Freckles? Maybe a toad to scare girls with!” He mused.

                Lily waved them both goodbye to go get Harry’s books while James walked with him to the pet store. James was more than content to listen to his son ramble. “Oh, don’t get a toad. Only losers have toads,” James scoffed. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to scare off potential friends, now would you?”

                Harry mused and rubbed his chin. He supposed not. “That’s a good point. Maybe an owl then,” he relented as they walked in. There were lots of strange creatures in the shops. A whole assortment of beautiful owls ranging from bold white eagle owls to tiny brown elf owls. But there were also salamanders and snakes and cats and cats that were much too big to just be cats and bats and fish and all sorts of wonderful things. James said he was going to go find Freckles’s food while they were there and let Harry go.

                Looking around in amazement, Harry was instantly drawn to a small snake that laying lazily under a heat lamp. The sign called it a Common European Adder.

                “ _Hello. What’s your name?_ ” Harry asked it as he tilted his head to the side. It was just a baby, barely a foot long! Maybe his dad would let him get a snake!

                “Idiot. Don’t you know snakes don’t have names,” a boy said from behind him. Harry jumped a bit and scrunched his nose up. The boy was no older than him, with dark hair and eyes – a bit like him. But he wore shabby clothes and had nastily pursed lips.

                “Who says they don’t?” Harry scoffed.

                “They do. _Tell him. You don’t have a name, do you?_ ” the boy asked, tapping the glass to get the snake’s attention, but stopping immediately after the snake looked up curiously.

                “ _No. I do not. But you make choose a name for me if you would like. The shop keeper just calls me the Adder.”_ The little snake said, looking undisturbed by the boys speaking in her language.

                Harry grinned at the snake, a little surprised but happily so. “Hmm. _Your name should be Hedwig._ ” He decided and looked over at the other boy. “My mom’s got a statue of Saint Hedwig in our house.” He didn’t know why because she said Saint Hedwig was the patron saint of orphans, but she seemed nice enough for a pretty snake like Hedwig.

                “That’s a good name,” the boy agreed, nodding. He seemed satisfied that it wasn’t a stupid name like Max or something. “Are you going to buy her?”

                Harry shrugged. “I don’t know if I’ll be allowed to bring her to Hogwarts. But if I can, I will. Are you buying a pet?”

                The boy shook his head. “No. Don’t have the money.”

                Harry shook his head. “It’s fine! My dad will buy you a pet! My parents say familiars are important to every witch and wizard!”

                “You don’t even know me.”

                Harry frowned and then held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Harry! Harry Potter! What’s your name?”

                “I’m Tom Riddle.”


	3. Diagon Alley Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this is the chapter we start to see Tom's obsessive nature

           James watched his son from a distance. He had rounded the corner after finding Freckle’s food, and saw Harry and another boy looking at a terrarium. His son had the brightest of smiles on his face – enough to that James’s chest bloomed with warmth. He hung back as Harry spoke to the taller boy, shaking hands with him in the utmost Potter-like manner. Once he let go, Harry pushed up onto his toes and reached into the terrarium and pulled a small snake out. The black and brown snake wound around Harry’s wrist, and the other boy reached forward to stoke its scales.

            Oh no. James pressed a hand to his chest at the sight. Lily was going to murder him. He should have directed their trouble-happy son directly to the owls and not let him out of his sight.

            James finally walked over to the boys, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder and smiling gently down at him. “What you got there, Harry?” He asked. But he couldn’t ignore the way Harry’s new friend glared at him and pursed his lips. Merlin have mercy. James really hopes Harry had his judge of character and not his mother’s.

            Harry just looked up at him with a smile and held the snake up so he could see it better. “I named her Hedwig. She says she doesn’t have a name, so I gave her one. Can I get her? Please? She’s really nice!”

            James sighed a little and looked at the description above the terrarium. She was found in East Asia and Western Europe mostly. They grew to be between 24 and 35 inches long, and only a couple ounces. And were one of the most venomous snakes in Europe. James felt his stomach lurched into this throat as he stared at the way the two boys just pet the snake like it was nothing.

            “Uh, what about a less venomous pet?” James suggested, looking around for a shop attendant. How to get his snake back in its tank without it biting either child? “I thought you wanted an owl.”

            Harry shook his head. “I want Hedwig. I can’t talk to an owl! Well, I mean, I could, but they can’t reply.”

            “A snake can’t either,” James pointed out and waved over the shop attendant whenever he caught her eyes.

            “Of course they can,” the other boy said with a roll of his eyes. “Harry and I were both just talking to Hedwig.  She’s rather tired of being in this tank all the time. Although, the Hogwarts letter says only cats, owls, and toads are allowed at Hogwarts,” he pointed out, looking from James to Harry. Something did change though. As he looked at James, his eyes had burned with defiance and distrust, but looking at Harry there was a sort of cautious hope in those black eyes.

            James scratched the back of his head in surprise. Harry’s a parselmouth? His immediate reaction was that was bad. Very bad. And impossible. Could it have been one of little Henry’s traits, maybe? The Black line was much more interbred with the Slytherin line than the Potters afterall. They were both dark families and produced dark wizards (besides a handful of exceptions like Sirius).

            The shop attendant came over and her eyes widened when she saw the little boys playing with her father’s favorite adder. A very venomous adder, mind you.  “Oh Merlin. Okay boys. Hold still. I’m going to put the snake back in the tank. You shouldn’t go playing with animals you don’t know,” she chided as she reached towards Harry’s wrist. The snake curled in an ‘S’ shape and hissed at her in warning.

            Harry stroked the top of his head and shushed the snake gently. “She doesn’t like you much, ma’am. Sorry. I’ll put her back in her tank,” he promised. “ _Be good. I want to bring you home with me,”_ Harry told the snake before pushing up on his tip toes again and letting Hedwig slither back into the tank. The shop assistant stared and shook her head. But Harry just turned back to his dad. “So? Can we bring her home with us? She’ll be good! She promises!”

            “ _I promise no such thing_ ,” Hedwig remarked, but luckily Tom didn’t seem like he much wanted to tell on Harry.

            “See? She says she’s excited! Please!” Harry pleaded, eyes widening as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

            James just stared and stared at his son. His boy. Sharing such a trait with dark wizards. It was terrifying, honestly. He looked to the other boy who had his arms crossed and was watching Harry with a hint of disapproval in his eyes.

            “Son, what’s your name?” James asked tentatively.

            The boy looked up at him sharply and narrowed his eyes. “Tom Riddle. What’s it to you?”

            Tom Riddle. Of course. James didn’t know what he expected. The only parselmouth he had ever heard of, Lord Voldemort himself. Oh goodness. This was Tom Riddle.  Lord Voldemort. Weak, vulnerable. A child. Alone.

            “Oh? What’s your mother’s name?” He asked, feigning ignorance. “I’ve never heard of a Riddle family before,” he explained.

            Tom shrugged. “I’m an orphan. She’s dead.” The way Tom shifted and sneered, it seemed the boy didn’t much care for the memory of his mother either.

            That… that broke James’s heart. He bit his bottom lip and looked at Harry. What would have Harry became without them? The Master of Death in at least one lifetime. His little boy… was he predestined to become a dark wizard? It didn’t matter, James decided. Harry is his son, and no matter who he became, James was going to support him. Because he’s had enough lifetimes without parents at all. He didn’t need one with shitty parents.

            James looked over to the shop attendant and smiled at her nervously. “Thank you for your help. I’ve got it from here,” he said to dismiss her before turning back to Tom. “You know what, I think I have heard of a Riddle, after all,” James said, scratching his chin. “Not a wizard, mind you. But married to a witch. From a very old line of magic,” he said.

            He wondered idly what Dumbledore would say about this. Tom had manipulated his place as the heir of Slytherin to gain power after all. James just didn’t believe they could stop him from finding out… so he hoped… maybe if he found out from the right people and in the right way, he’d at least be a bit better off.

            That suspicion was given merit by the fact that Tom’s eyes widened dramatically when James said he had heard of his parents. How could his mother be a witch when she died, though? It seemed impossible. Why couldn’t she say herself? Why wouldn’t she want to save herself to be with him?

            “You knew my parents?” Tom asked slowly. “How? Are you lying? I don’t like being lied to!”

            James put his hands up and shook his head. “I didn’t know them, but I knew of them. More so of your mother than your father. What do you say we get you boys your… pets and meet up with Harry’s mum. Then we can all go for ice cream and I’ll answer any questions I can,” he suggested.

            Tom rocked heel to toe once, frowning at the offer. “I have to be home to the orphanage before it gets dark.”

            James shook his head. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it, I promise. Do you know who you guys want to bring home with you?” He asked, forcing himself to smile.

            The man who almost had an orphan of his son… was an orphan himself. James had vaguely known that, of course. When Harry had first been targeted, Dumbledore had told them all he knew about Voldemort to help them fight him. But it was so much more poignant staring in the eyes of a boy who just looked angry and lost than a genocidal subhuman man.

            Harry grinned. “I want to bring Hedwig home! We’re going to be the best of friends,” he promised. “What about you, Tom?”

            Tom frowned and looked at the snake he’d been talking to before Harry had came in. “I don’t need your charity. I probably can’t even have a pet at the orphanage,” he told James, looking up at him with barely concealed disappointment.

            James nodded in understanding. “Alright then. Sorry to hear that. Every wizard deserves a familiar,” he said and looked at Harry. “Well, let’s see what we need to keep Hedwig happy. Heating lamps, a terariums, some tank lining, a little hidey hole I think is nice,” James listed off, flicking his wand and making each think come to them while Harry turned around to pull Hedwig back out of her tank. James got the rest of what he could think of, including a jar of live crickets.

            As for Tom, he watched in wonder and followed at Harry’s side as they headed to the front. The shop keeper frowned when he saw how casually Harry was holding the snake, but remembered his daughter saying the boys appeared to speak parseltongue and just went along ringing up everything they needed. James shrunk their good and put them in his pockets while letting Harry keep hold of his new pet.

            They walked out of the store with Tom quietly telling Harry everything he knew about the European adder family, which was quite a lot for such a young boy. The ran into Lily right outside of the book shop. James gave his wife a look that said Harry had once again found trouble for them, but Lily just smiled through her worry.

            “Hi, Mum!” Harry said excitedly when he finally noticed her. “This is Hedwig,” he informed her, holding up the snake for her to see. “And this is my new friend, Tom. He can speak to snakes too! Did you know that was a thing? Isn’t it brilliant! It’s like we were meant to be best of friends!”

            Tom was given pause at that. Yes. It did seem that they were meant to be together. Why else would they have run into each other like it was? For as skeptic as Tom was, he’d grown up with the idea of fate having a reason for everything and everyone. It was clear as day to Tom that this mean Harry was supposed to be his friend. Harry wasn’t completely horrible like the children at the orphanage, and he was a proper wizard with proper wizard parents too. Now, what did one do with friends?

            Lily smiled at the snake and then the boy. “Nice to meet you, Tom,” she said like she was talking to an adult and held out her hand. “My name’s Dorea. You can call me Dory or Lily, if you’d like. Most people do.”

            Tom took her hand and shook it. Good. She at least seemed to have more manners than her husband.  “Hello, Dorea. Your husband says you’ve heard of my parents. My dad’s name was Thomas Riddle.”

            Lily’s eyes widened and bit, and she looked over at James. “Yeah, yes, I’ve heard of him a bit. More of your mum, Merope.”

            “My mom’s name was Merope?” Tom asked. Did the matrons at the orphanage know? Surely, they did! He was born there! But they’d never told him that.

            Lily nodded. “Merope Gaunt. She was… a character,” she mumbled, looking to James apprehensively. What were they supposed to do with a tiny Lord Voldemort standing here making friends with Harry.

            “I suggested we get ice cream and talk,” James said with a shrug. He had no idea how Lily would want to handle this, but it’s not like they could just tell Harry he couldn’t be friends with a boy that had been perfectly decent to him so far.

            “Or lunch,” Lily pointed out, rolling her eyes. “Come along boys, lunch and then ice cream. Does that work for you, Tom?”

            Tom nodded politely. “Yes ma’am. I haven’t any money though,” he admitted, wishing he did. He hated feeling so absolutely useless.

            “Well, I’m certain there’s a thing or two we can do about that,” Lily said kindly. “Don’t worry, dear. When you’re with us, you need not spend a dime of your own,” she promised him and gently guided both boys by their shoulder through the crowd. Tom was immensely uncomfortable, but he knew better than talking back to adult who planned to feed him. He really did like the idea of eating something. He’d had to miss lunch in order to come today after all.

            “My mum and dad are really nice,” Harry said in a whisper, because he missed a lot of things, but he didn’t miss the way the boy’s head stayed down and he seemed not to talk anymore. “It’s okay, Tom. We’re friends now. I’ll make sure nothing bad happens,” he promised with the wide-eyed optimism of a boy who grew up surrounded in a community full of love, healing, and hope. Finally, he reached out with his hand that didn’t have a snake in it and held Tom’s hand like he did his parents’ patients. Sometimes even if his touch couldn’t heal someone physically like his dad’s could, his dad told him the simplest of gestures had a way of healing the soul.

            Tom frowned and stared down at their hands for a moment in confusion. Is that what friends did? Well, Tom could do that. He was already rather good at punishing mean people and making others do what he said. To himself, he silently swore that nothing bad would ever happen to Harry Potter so long as he could help it. And Tom was certain that Harry would come to need his help much more frequently than he would need Harry’s.

            “Where did you get that scar?” Tom asked without decorum instead of returning the nice words. “Did your parents do that to you?” He asked, raising a brow.

            Harry shook his head. “No, I’ve had it since I was a baby. A bad man attacked me and my parents, and I got hit with a dark … curse,” he said slowly, looking up at his mom to make sure he had to right word. She frowned to herself, but nodded. “Yeah. A dark curse. It didn’t work, but it gave me a bad scar and turned my hair white and now I can’t see out this eye,” he explained. Only the front part of his hair was white and he could see out of that eye some with his glasses, but not much.

            Tom scrunched his nose up a bit at that. A wizard had hurt his friend? Immediately Tom knew he wanted to make sure this man paid for doing this to Harry. His friend.  “What was his name?”

            Harry shrugged again. He’d never bothered to ask about that.  He looked back up at this parents in questioning. They both seemed tense for some reason. Maybe they just didn’t like talking about this. He couldn’t blame them.

            “Lord Voldemort. His name was Lord Voldemort,” James finally said. “But you don’t need to worry about him, okay,” he said truthfully. Not right now anyway.

            Lord Voldemort, Tom thought, committing the odd name to memory. Unless he was already dead, Tom was going to make the man rue ever hurting his Harry. Now he just had to get stronger. More powerful. So no one would ever hurt them ever again.

            They finally arrived at the restaurant and were seated almost immediately. Tom was given his own menu after he sat beside Harry in their booth. He couldn’t believe all the options. And he could have anything he wanted? It seemed too good to be true. And yet, James and Lily talked casually like this was nothing out of the ordinary.  Maybe for them, it wasn’t.

            “So how did you hear about my parents?” Tom finally asked as closed the menu and put it back on the table.

            James and Lily shared a look, like they were silently arguing over who had to talk to the kid. Finally Lily looked away from her husband and smile sadly. “She was a friend of a friend. She descended from one of the four Hogwarts founders and now so do you. Salazar Slytherin. Has anyone told you about the four houses?”

            Tom shook his head.

            “Well, at Hogwarts, you will be placed in one of four houses based upon your personality. There’s Hufflepuff which is the home of the loyal and the patient, and Ravenclaw which is where inquisitive, creative minds go. There’s Gryffindor, like Charlus, who are brave and noble. And there’s Slytherin house, which is where dwell the ambitious and cunning, like myself,” she said, feeling weird saying she was Slytherin. She knew Dorea had been though, so it’s not like she had a choice but to lie. Even after 10 years, living Dorea Black-Potter’s life was one of many struggles.

            Tom soaked that informative in eagerly. He descended from a founder of Hogwarts. And now he was getting to go home at last. “Slytherin and Ravenclaw do sound like the best,” he said, staring at her expectantly. “What else do you know about them?”

            Lily took a deep breath and put a hand on James’s leg when he opened his mouth to argue with _the child_. “All the houses had good and bad wizards. I don’t think any are better than the others. Saying one house is better than the others is a bit like saying the founders only did a quarter job or making a good school,” she explained. “Every house has their place in this world to contribute to the greater good of society.

            “But as for your parents,” she continued, “I’m sorry to say I didn’t know them personally so I can’t say much. I do know your father is a wealthy muggle man who I believe is still alive, but not mentally well.” Which, she thought was fair to say of any bastard who could abandon their own child. Whether Merope deceived him or not. Tom wasn’t to blame for her wrong doings. “Your mother never attended Hogwarts for the same reason. Her mental health struggled because the Gaunt family… had some bad practices of marrying within each other. They thought it would keep their magic purer, but actually it just hurt their health. As it is with most pureblood families.”

            His parents had been ill. Well, Tom supposed that made sense. Much better than thinking they’d willfully abandoned him to those awful – what’s the word? Muggles! Yes.  Those awful muggles.

            “What’s a pureblood?” Tom asked with brows brought together. His stare was locked on Lily, and he didn’t plan to look away until he had all the answers he needed.

            “Someone without any muggle heritage,” James explained. Tom’s eyes whipped to him as he listened intently. “You’re a half-blood who has both muggle and magical heritage. We’re purebloods. Some people think being a pureblood makes them a better wizard, but that’s not at all the case. There’s no such thing as having purer blood. A wizard shouldn’t be judged by his lineage, but by the contents of his characters.”

            Here when James said “contents of his character,” Tom assumed he meant his magical abilities and not his morality and personality.  He understood that. Who cares about what someone’s parents could do? If they were weak, they were useless. If they were strong, they were useful.

            The waitress came up to them at that point with a happy smile and asked them all what they would like to drink and eat. After getting their orders, she promised to be right back with their drinks. It was only a second later that Tom was opening his mouth again.

            “What about Dumbledore? Do you know Albus Dumbledore? Is he a powerful wizard?” Tom asked unwaveringly.

            James smiled pitifully and nodded. “Unfortunately, he’s a very powerful wizard,” he said. “He thinks he knows better than anyone else. But ignore him and trust your instincts. You’re the only person who knows what’s best for yourself.”

            Obviously. Tom wasn’t about to go following the man around like some lost puppy. He’d already proven he couldn’t be trusted by making Tom give back his treasure.

            Harry had grown quite bored with this conversation and was keeping Hedwig warn inside his shirt so he couldn’t quite talk to her. He groaned and leaned on the table. “You know what house I want to be in? Gryffindor! Just like my dad,” Harry shared happily, smiling at Tom.

            That made Tom frown. “But I want you to be with me,” he said with betrayal flooding his eyes. “Don’t you want to be together?”

            Harry hummed and nodded. “Yeah! It would be real cool to share classes together. So maybe we’ll both be in Gryffindor! Or we’ll both be in Slytherin. Either way, we’ll still be friends,” he promised. “We can still study together, and we’ll still have classes together and I can teach you how to ride a broom!”

            “A broom!” Tom asked, voice cracking a bit at the ridiculous thought. “Wizards ride brooms? Like in the story books?”

            “Of course we do! It’s the most fun things in the world!” Harry informed, throwing his hands up in animation. “And we play a sport called Quidditch on them. You voom around on them faster than anything! And the seeker has to catch the snitch, and the chaser puts the quaffle through the hoops while the keeper tries to stop them and…”

            Harry’s explanation of Quidditch went on for quite some time because Tom had him explain every single aspect in horrifying detail, including the history of Quidditch and all the different teams. James helped, of course. He was hardly going to miss a conversation about Quidditch. Despite Tom just saying over and over how pointless and stupid that sounded, he kept asking questions. He just didn’t want to get to school and look stupid not knowing something, he insisted.

            Soon enough their food had come and so had the bill. It was nearly an hour before the left the restaurant and both boys had much more they still needed to get. Including Harry’s potion materials and tools and Tom’s books. Lily and James wouldn’t let Tom pay a knut more either, telling him he should keep it as pocket money. As much as Tom hated charity, he did like the idea of having pocket money to get him through the summer.

            Finally, their last stop of the day, after getting their robes for school was to get their wands from Ollivander. Harry looked around at all the wands in wonder while Tom found himself grimacing at the priced. Five galleons for a nine-inch wand? That was practically robbery for a stick!

            But Ollivander’s ladder came rolling down the aisle and the middle aged man jumped off with a jolly smile. “Oh, what do we have here!? Two Hogwarts students, I presume!” He announced and clapped his hands. “Good to see you Miss. Dorea Black – 10 inches, dragon heartstring, willow?” He asked as he looked at some wands.

            “On the money,” Lily agreed with a smile. For the first time, she realized how alike her and Dorea’s wands were, save for her original wand having been unicorn hair.

            “Alright, Young Henry Potter, how about you try this and Mister Tom Riddle, you try this,” Ollivander said without even having asked or been told their names. How did he do that, Harry and Tom both wondered, sharing a look as if to ask the other.

            Harry took his wand in hand first and swished it around, feeling silly. Boxes flew out of their place and Ollivander took it back immediately, snatching it from his hands.  Tom smirked a bit and did the same, this time the papers on Ollivander’s desk caught fire. Ollivander stole that wand too and didn’t bother putting out the fire. It would go away eventually. Not much was flammable in his shop. He saw to it.

            “Hmm. Curious, curious,” the old wizard mused. “Two strong wizards in one day. You’ll need something durable,” he muttered to himself and went back and grabbed two more.

            This process repeated itself with only a couple injuries before Tom got his wand. Purple and silver sparks flew and his whole body seemed to warm up. Ollivander was practically beaming. “Just what I thought! I should have known such a wizard would need such a wand! Silly, silly me!” He laughed. “Right there you have 13 1/3 inches – quite long and yew wood. We in the wand business say a yew wand never chooses a timid or mediocre owner. You must be destined for great things. The core of that, phoenix feather. Quite rare. Be careful. They do tend to have a mind of their own.”

            Tom stared at his wand. Destined for great things. Of course he was. Now he just had more proof than his determination to be so.

            “Give me a moment, Mr. Potter. I have an idea,” Ollivander said, taking back the previous wand that Harry hadn’t even tested yet and in the next moment, he brought another wand quite different in appearance. “Try this. Nice and supple. 11 inches. Made of holly,” he told Harry as he handed it over.

            Harry, far from disheartened, gave it a swish with closed eyes as he embraced for impact, but instead red and gold sparks flew and Harry felt a certain odd energy run through him. Like he could run a marathon if he needed to. “I think this is it,” Harry said gasping.

            “Awe, I thought so,” Ollivander said with a grin. “The core is phoenix feather. Boys, the phoenix that donated those feathers, only ever gave anyone two feathers. One in each of your wands. I’d go as far as to call your wands brothers,” he told them.

            Their wands are brothers? Tom looked at Harry’s wand and then his own. This sealed it for him. Of course they were meant to be together. Harry was just one treasure not even Dumbledore could make him give up.

            “Holly thought. Holly and phoenix feather are quite the odd match. Yew and phoenix feather are both strong elements needing a strong wizard. Holly is what we call a protective wood. It becomes very attached to its owner and serves to protect it at all costs whereas phoenix feather prefers to stay at length and do as it pleases.” Ollivander explained.

            He became less and less cheerful as he studied the wand and wizard. “I would put my reputation as a craftsman on the line to say, you, young man, are a force to be reckoned with. No one should stand in your way least they fair themselves a fool and glutton for punishment,” he explained darkly and then shook his head.

            “No matter. I’m happy to have helped you boys. Mum, Dad, that’ll come to 15 galleons, two sickles,” Ollivander told Lily and James.

            James was feeling a bit sick to his stomach as he handed over 16 galleons and told Ollivander to keep the change. He lead the boys out giving his wife a look of mourning. They sure did hope Ollivander would lose that bet.

            Harry and Tom? Well, they were over the moon that their wands were brothers. Harry insisted that this meant they should be like brother too, and told Hedwig the good news, but the snake didn’t seem to care much. Oh well.

            They walked through the Alley to the Leaky Cauldron where instead of flooing home, Lily offered to walk Tom back to the orphanage since it was nearing dark. Tom declined, of course, and just said his goodbyes to Harry’s parents before looking at the boy and nodding.

            “I’ll see you at Hogwarts,” Tom said insistently like for some reason Harry would change his mind.

            Harry beamed and launched himself forward. “See you at Hogwarts, Tom!”


	4. A Ride on The Hogwarts Express

     The morning of September 1, 1938 was obnoxiously bright over London. Of course, Harry was loving it. He was practically skipping through King’s Cross Station with his father behind him pushing his cart.

     “Slow down, Harry! We’re almost there!” Lily called with a laugh and sparkling eyes. 

     The dark haired boy turned his head behind him and grinned at his parents. Lily wasn’t sure what she’d do with herself without her precious boy there. Her legs felt like jelly with each step closer to the platform and she looked at James before reaching over to touch his arm. James had reassured her a thousand times, but it was hard to believe him when he then became a sobbing baby and made Harry promise to write everyday. 

     Lily watched Harry as he ran right on through the platform James had pointed out. They followed after him with smiles so proud only parents could ever manage them.

     James felt warmth swell in his chest as he watched the way Harry’s mouth fell open and he stared at the train. Large, robust and just as rustic red as when James had first rode it… 20 years ago and 33 years in the future. It seemed to go on forever, on out of the station and the blow of the whistle made his heart skip a beat. 

     “Sounds like it’s about to leave. You best get going, mate,” James said. He had to blink tears out of his dark hazel eyes to keep from seeming too sappy in front of his son. He had an example to set! 

     Harry turned around, eyes wide. He couldn’t stop smiling, but there was a voice in his head nagging him over all the small details. What if he ended up a Hufflepuff?  Or without friends? Or worse! What if he showed up and they decided he was a squib or something! That would be awful. A small logical part of him that sounded too much like his mom pointed out that he wouldn’t be able to fly a broom if that was the case, but as he often did, he ignored that small voice until it went quiet with dismay.

     Lily opened her arms and immediately had her son’s arms wrapped around her waist and a face pressed into her stomach. She ran her fingers through his unruly black hair and leaned down to kiss it. “I love you, baby boy. Be good, okay?” She said softly.

     Harry nodded eagerly. He wrapped his dad in a hug as the train gave another whistle. He bounced back from that hug much quicker and grabbed his trunk, leaving James unsatisfied but understanding. James had been the same way, he knew. 

     “Hey, before you go, remember: the easy thing to do isn’t always the right thing to do, yeah?” James called after him as he stood on the step up to the train. 

     “I know, Dad!” Harry called and gave them one last wave goodbye before disappearing into the train. 

     James wrapped his arms around Lily and pressed a kiss to her cheek. It was up to Harry what he did now. They did their job. They just had to hope they did it well. 

 

* * *

 

     It felt like all the cabins were filled to the brim or had older kids in them. Not that Harry was afraid of older kids… but… okay, he was a little afraid. He knew he should have gotten an owl. Then he could have arranged to meet Tom in a certain place. Harry swallowed thickly when he saw a cabin with only a couple people in it. He let out a breath when he saw Tom sitting in the corner reading a book.

     “H-hey! Can I join you guys?” Harry asked looking at the two girls and the boy. One of the girls seemed tall, but maybe that was just how she carried herself. She had short blonde hair, almond-shaped almost black eyes, a sharp nose, and soft face that held a grin that made him wonder if he maybe shouldn’t have picked a different cabin. The girl beside her was her opposite in physical characteristics. Instead of mischievous, her eyes were hard and challenging. The boy beside her was similar to her - dark hair and light eyes with sharp features. But he was rocking, bouncing his knee and looking down at his book. 

     “Depends. What’s your name?” The serious girl asked, pursing her lips.

     “Uh.” What  _ is _ his name? “Henry. Henry Potter. But you can call me Harry. Everyone does.”

     Suddenly Tom looked up and their eyes met. Harry smiled shyly at him as the serious girl seemed to relax.

     “Sure. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t a mudblood,” she explained with a shrug.

     Harry’s cheeks flushed and he shook his head before narrowing his eyes at her. His stomach twisted a bit. “Don’t use that word. It’s ugly.”

     She looked him over, eyes running over him before she rolled her eyes and continued to talk to the other girl.

     Harry’s stomach clenched but he just grabbed his trunk and tucked it away before sitting beside Tom. He smiled and reached down into his shirt as he spoke. “Heya, Tom. Hedwig missed you,” he informed him.

     Hedwig curled around his hand and looked up at him distastefully. 

     “ _ Hey! Don’t give me that look, girl. You were just talking about how much you missed him. Don’t be sour just because I won’t let you act so cold blooded _ ,” Harry scoffed and smiled at Tom again. “She gets bored only talking to me.”

     Tom nodded like he understood that sentiment well and held his hand out to let Hedwig slither onto his hand. “ _ Be good or I’ll throw you off the train _ ,” Tom warned. Hedwig disregarded the warning and just kept crawling over him as she pleased.

     “You two can both speak to snakes?” The serious girl asked, leaning forward with wide eyes and a smile. “Are you brothers?”

     Harry shook his head while Tom nodded. Harry giggled a bit and even the corner of Tom’s mouth rose. 

     “What’s it to you?” Tom asked, chin tilting up and eyes narrowing. He didn’t want to make bad impressions, but it was hard to pretend he wasn’t bothered they’d waltzed into  _ his _ cabin without so much as asking. Now they were questioning him and his friend? It reminded him too much of the bratty kids at the orphanage.

     Walburga - as they would soon learn was the serious girl’s name - licked her lips and Harry could have sworn she had fangs. “Well, they say,” she drawled, “that only descendants of Salazar Slytherin can speak parseltongue. I can’t imagine a Potter being from Slytherin, but perhaps your mother’s family?”

     “We’re not brothers,” Tom said with an eye roll. But they were close enough. Perhaps cousins? He hoped. He wanted Harry to be tied to him permanently. One way or another, he’d figure out how to make that happen. “But yes. My mother was a Gaunt. The last of Slytherin’s line.”

     “And you?” Walburga asked, looking to Harry.

     “Uh. My dad’s a Potter and my mom’s a Black. Uh, dad says we come from the Peverell brothers, you know, like from the story? But otherwise nothing special.”

     “Awe. You must be a cousin then,” Walburga said and reached her hand out. “Walburga Black. This is Druella Rosier and my younger brother Alphard. Pleasure to meet you both.”

     Tom looked over at Harry and then back to Walburga before standing and taking her hand and kissing her knuckles gently. He knew that’s what gentlemen did and he was determined to be a gentleman. Like Mr. Potter. The Potters had been nice to him. And they had knew his mother and thought good of her even though she was weak. A strange part of him felt a connection to the Potter parents.

     Harry scrunched his brows together and watched Walburga laugh softly and then hold her hand for him. He just shook it and smiled shyly at her. 

     “Henry. Come now. Is that any way to treat a lady?” Tom hissed.

     Harry looked from side to side and then shrugged. He didn’t see any reason to treat her any differently than he would a man.

     Walburga just shook her head and told Tom it was quite alright. But Tom decided he would need to teach Harry manners. How could a pureblood be so ignorant of his own traditions? It didn’t make sense, but Tom had spent all summer reading about wizard traditions and etiquette. And he would be happy to share his findings with Harry.

     Luckily, Harry was saved from what was guaranteed to be a very boring lecture about traditions and being educated on proper social behaviors by the door opening and a jovial older woman with bouncing hair and a matching stomach kindly asking if they’d take anything from the trolley.

     After the other three got their chocolate frogs and sugar quills, Harry walked over to the trolley and bought a little bit of everything. He put the candy between him and Tom with a smile reminiscent of the sun and eyes sparkling like a wildflower field at dawn.

     “You can’t seriously be eating all that, can you?” Tom asked, lip curled in disgust at the pile of food. What a waste of money. 

     “Of course not! I bought it so we could share. I figured you’d never tried wizard sweets so I got a bit of everything,” Harry explained and dug around the pile before holding out a chocolate frog box. “Here. You’ve got to try chocolate frogs. They’re so funny!”

     Tom looked down at the blue and silver box and rolled his eyes. “I don’t really enjoy sweet-!” Tom was caught off guard when the frog leaped out of the hexagonal box and into the middle of the compartment. Harry jumped forward and snatch it out of the air right in front of poor Alphard’s face.

     “Good catch!” Alphard squeaked and grinned at Harry as he sat back down and handed the twitching chocolate frog over to Tom. As he settled again, Hedwig slid back over their laps and burrowed deep into Harry's pocket, likely finding the window seat too chilly for her liking.

     “I’ve been training to be a seeker so it’s not all that impressive,” Harry explained to Alphard before turning to Tom. “See! Funny. They only have one good jump in them and the chocolate’s not the best, but the real reason to collect them is for the cards,” he explained.

     Tom took a bite of the mediocre chocolate as he picked up the card from the bottom of the box and turned it over in his hand. It showed a beautiful, dark skinned woman laying in the lap of luxury with swine at her feet that shrilled and cried. She smirked up at Tom, winked, and then disappeared. On the back, it explained she was Greek witch who was known for turning foolish sailors into the swine when they washed up onto her island.

     “Where’d she go?” Tom asked, looking at Harry with knitted brows.

     “Well, you can’t expect her to just sit around all day, can you?” Alphard scoffed, earning a heavy glare from Tom.

     Harry just chuckled and shook his head. “Magical pictures are different from muggle ones, Tom. The people can move and go about their days as they please, going from portrait to portrait. Almost like a muggle film,” he explained.

     Tom had never been to the cinema. But he had heard of them and nodded so he felt less ignorant.

     “What’s a film?” Alphard asked and immediately earned a smack from his sister who’s whisper sounded more like a hiss when she scolded him for even entertaining interest in such heathen muggle thing.

     Harry grimaced at that talk and looked away. He knew he should say something, but it was a long ride to Hogwarts and Tom seemed set on making a good impression with these people. And if this Walburga and Alphard were his cousins, then shouldn’t he care about making a good impression too?

     With a sore lip from biting it for so long, Harry looked at Walburga with a set jaw. “You shouldn’t say things like that. Muggles aren’t heathens. They’re just people without magic. That’s all.”

     “Oh cry me a river, muggle-lover,” Walburga spat.

     “Better a muggle-lover than a fricken bigoted butthead!” Harry countered hotly, jumping up to his feet.

     The young woman opposite him stood as well, bouncing to her feet like a cat. But the power in her shoulders was less domesticated pet and more like enraged lioness. Her dark eyes were narrowed as she stood toe to toe, nose to nose with opponent. She didn’t even have to say a word for her face to make it clear she saw him as nothing but dirt beneath her feet. Lips pursed like she was ready to spit on him and nose turned up and away like he smelled something foul. Needless to say, everything about her pissed Harry off.

     “Name-calling never got anyone anywhere,” Alphard spoke up, his eyes wide and tired. Big gray eyes plead for Harry to drop it and not fight with his older sister. But Harry’s stubborn set jaw had no leeway to give on this matter.

     Harry turned sharply on his heels and stormed over to the door. “I’m leaving,” he said simply before opening the door and disappearing around the corner.

     He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t know anyone else. And he was sure everywhere was full by now. But he wasn’t going to stand there and listen to someone be so mean and nasty. He walked down the hallway until he came across a room of benches with lots of older students talking among themselves. His head tilted down, and he shoved his hands into his pockets as he tried to scurry right through the room.

     “Hey!”

     Harry ignored it.

     “Hey! Henry! Little Henry Potter!”

     Harry looked up finally and locked eyes with a boy who was probably a handful of years older than him. He had wild blonde hair and dark eyes that shone warmly.

     Harry looked side to side and then raised a brow at him. “Do I know you?”

     “Do you know me!” The older boy laughed. “I’d say so. Your dad regrew my leg a couple years ago after my family fled Grindlewald. We played exploding snap almost every day for a month.”

     Harry was torn between telling him he met a lot of people through his parents and pretending he remembered him when the name finally came back to him. 

     “Abraxas. Hi,” he said with a happy smile. The French boy had been a good companion despite how rough his family had it. But since establishing themselves in England again, it seemed like they were doing well. Least, they hadn’t been around his house in years. He never knew the details of how the Malfoys became involved with Grindlewald or why they’d been targeted by his men, but Harry never bothered to ask either.

     “You look a little lost. You want to come sit with me?” He offered with a nod towards where several older kids in green-lined robes.

     Harry’s shoulders finally relaxed and he nodded. Following Abraxas over to his group felt safe. Abraxas had always been so nice to him and after the run in with Walburga Black, he  could use a familiar face.

     “Everyone, this is Henry Potter. He’s a first year so be nice to him. Welcome to the Slytherin hoard, Henry. Are you still convinced you’ll be the greatest Gryffindor ever?” Abraxas asked. His smile was so warm and friendly - immediately, he was absorbed.

     “Duh,” Harry retorted, his own smile soft - almost timid! “I want to be like my dad! Strong and brave and talented!  _ And  _ I told you to call me  _ Harry _ !” 

     The older kids chuckles at him, and Abraxas leaned over to ruffle his hair. The conversation drifted into their expectation of classes and advice to Harry on how to do well in each other them.

 

  1. Avoid Slytherin if he wants good marks in Transfiguration
  2. Be very polite to Slughorn and it’ll earn him favors
  3. Draw pictures in the field journal for Herbology
  4. Never ever fall asleep in Charms or he’ll die (he thinks that one is a joke)



 

     Harry really wished he could have been writing down all their advice seeing as they seemed so genuinely helpful. He knew he’d never remember this way, but it would work out eventually. It always did. 

* * *

 

     Harry didn’t see Tom again until they were all pushing their way out of the train. A booming voice echoed over them, calling the first years away from the others and towards boats. It’s when Harry went to climb into one of the small row boats that a pale hand stretched out towards him. He took it on instinct and looked up to smile, grinning even more when he saw his friend.

     “Tom! I was scared I wouldn’t see you again!” He admitted as he took the seat beside him as others got behind them. 

     Tom raised a brow at him and then shook his head a bit. “If you were so worried, then you shouldn’t have left the cabin.”

     Harry’s mouth fell open and he felt his stomach twist. Was Tom angry with him?  He couldn’t tell. Tom’s face was neutral, but he wasn’t looking at Harry. And his voice had sounded so cold. It made shivers run down his spine like ice shoved down the back of his shirt. 

     “Sorry, Tom. She was just making me mad,” Harry explained in a whisper as their boat was pushed off the shore. 

     Tom said nothing more to him. Harry just sighed and looked over the boat’s edge at the black water. The moon shone bright and round over the Black Lake. Harry stared at it’s reflection and took a deep breath. 

_      The easy thing to do isn’t always the right thing to do _ , Harry reminded himself of his father’s words, _ but why is it always my job to do the right thing? _


End file.
